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"In other words, Marguerite," said Balthazar, gently, "you turn me out of my own house."
"I do not deserve that bitter reproach," replied the daughter, quelling the tumultuous beatings of her heart. "You will come back to us in a manner becoming to your dignity. Besides, father, I have your promise.
You are bound to obey me. My uncle has stayed here that he might himself accompany you to Bretagne, and not leave you to make the journey alone."
"I shall not go," said Balthazar, rising; "I need no help from any one to restore my property and pay what I owe to my children."
"It would be better, certainly," replied Marguerite, calmly. "But now I ask you to reflect on our respective situations, which I will explain in a few words. If you stay in this house your children will leave it, so that you may remain its master."
"Marguerite!" cried Balthazar.
"In that case," she said, continuing her words without taking notice of her father's anger, "it will be necessary to notify the minister of your refusal, if you decide not to accept this honorable and lucrative post, which, in spite of our many efforts, we should never have obtained but for certain thousand-franc notes my uncle slipped into the glove of a lady."
"My children leave me!" he exclaimed.
"You must leave us or we must leave you," she said. "If I were your only child, I should do as my mother did, without murmuring against my fate; but my brothers and sister shall not perish beside you with hunger and despair. I promised it to her who died there," she said, pointing to the place where her mother's bed had stood. "We have hidden our troubles from you; we have suffered in silence; our strength is gone. My father, we are not on the edge of an abyss, we are at the bottom of it.
Courage is not sufficient to drag us out of it; our efforts must not be incessantly brought to nought by the caprices of a pa.s.sion."
"My dear children," cried Balthazar, seizing Marguerite's hand, "I will help you, I will work, I--"
"Here is the means," she answered, showing him the official letter.
"But, my darling, the means you offer me are too slow; you make me lose the fruits of ten years' work, and the enormous sums of money which my laboratory represents. There," he said, pointing towards the garret, "are our real resources."
Marguerite walked towards the door, saying:--
"Father, you must choose."
"Ah! my daughter, you are very hard," he replied, sitting down in an armchair and allowing her to leave him.
The next morning, on coming downstairs, Marguerite learned from Lemulquinier that Monsieur Claes had gone out. This simple announcement turned her pale; her face was so painfully significant that the old valet remarked hastily:--
"Don't be troubled, mademoiselle; monsieur said he would be back at eleven o'clock to breakfast. He didn't go to bed all night. At two in the morning he was still standing in the parlor, looking through the window at the laboratory. I was waiting up in the kitchen; I saw him; he wept; he is in trouble. Here's the famous month of July when the sun is able to enrich us all, and if you only would--"
"Enough," said Marguerite, divining the thoughts that must have a.s.sailed her father's mind.
A phenomenon which often takes possession of persons leading sedentary lives had seized upon Balthazar; his life depended, so to speak, on the places with which it was identified; his thought was so wedded to his laboratory and to the house he lived in that both were indispensable to him,--just as the Bourse becomes a necessity to a stock-gambler, to whom the public holidays are so much lost time. Here were his hopes; here the heavens contained the only atmosphere in which his lungs could breathe the breath of life. This alliance of places and things with men, which is so powerful in feeble natures, becomes almost tyrannical in men of science and students. To leave his house was, for Balthazar, to renounce Science, to abandon the Problem,--it was death.
Marguerite was a prey to anxiety until the breakfast hour. The former scene in which Balthazar had meant to kill himself came back to her memory, and she feared some tragic end to the desperate situation in which her father was placed. She came and went restlessly about the parlor, and quivered every time the bell or the street-door sounded.
At last Balthazar returned. As he crossed the courtyard Marguerite studied his face anxiously and could see nothing but an expression of stormy grief. When he entered the parlor she went towards him to bid him good-morning; he caught her affectionately round the waist, pressed her to his heart, kissed her brow, and whispered,--
"I have been to get my pa.s.sport."
The tones of his voice, his resigned look, his feeble movements, crushed the poor girl's heart; she turned away her head to conceal her tears, and then, unable to repress them, she went into the garden to weep at her ease. During breakfast, Balthazar showed the cheerfulness of a man who had come to a decision.
"So we are to start for Bretagne, uncle," he said to Monsieur Conyncks.
"I have always wished to go there."
"It is a place where one can live cheaply," replied the old man.
"Is our father going away?" cried Felicie.
Monsieur de Solis entered, bringing Jean.
"You must leave him with me to-day," said Balthazar, putting his son beside him. "I am going away to-morrow, and I want to bid him good-bye."
Emmanuel glanced at Marguerite, who held down her head. It was a gloomy day for the family; every one was sad, and tried to repress both thoughts and tears. This was not an absence, it was an exile.
All instinctively felt the humiliation of the father in thus publicly declaring his ruin by accepting an office and leaving his family, at Balthazar's age. At this crisis he was great, while Marguerite was firm; he seemed to accept n.o.bly the punishment of faults which the tyrannous power of genius had forced him to commit. When the evening was over, and father and daughter were again alone, Balthazar, who throughout the day had shown himself tender and affectionate as in the first years of his fatherhood, held out his hand and said to Marguerite with a tenderness that was mingled with despair,--
"Are you satisfied with your father?"
"You are worthy of HIM," said Marguerite, pointing to the portrait of Van Claes.
The next morning Balthazar, followed by Lemulquinier, went up to the laboratory, as if to bid farewell to the hopes he had so fondly cherished, and which in that scene of his toil were living things to him. Master and man looked at each other sadly as they entered the garret they were about to leave, perhaps forever. Balthazar gazed at the various instruments over which his thoughts so long had brooded; each was connected with some experiment or some research. He sadly ordered Lemulquinier to evaporate the gases and the dangerous acids, and to separate all substances which might produce explosions. While taking these precautions, he gave way to bitter regrets, like those uttered by a condemned man before going to the scaffold.
"Here," he said, stopping before a china capsule in which two wires of a voltaic pile were dipped, "is an experiment whose results ought to be watched. If it succeeds--dreadful thought!--my children will have driven from their home a father who could fling diamonds at their feet. In a combination of carbon and sulphur," he went on, speaking to himself, "carbon plays the part of an electro-positive substance; the crystallization ought to begin at the negative pole; and in case of decomposition, the carbon would crop into crystals--"
"Ah! is that how it would be?" said Lemulquinier, contemplating his master with admiration.
"Now here," continued Balthazar, after a pause, "the combination is subject to the influence of the galvanic battery, which may act--"
"If monsieur wishes, I can increase its force."
"No, no; leave it as it is. Perfect stillness and time are the conditions of crystallization--"
"Confound it, it takes time enough, that crystallization," cried the old valet impatiently.
"If the temperature goes down, the sulphide of carbon will crystallize,"
said Balthazar, continuing to give forth shreds of indistinct thoughts which were parts of a complete conception in his own mind; "but if the battery works under certain conditions of which I am ignorant--it must be watched carefully--it is quite possible that--Ah! what am I thinking of? It is no longer a question of chemistry, my friend; we are to keep accounts in Bretagne."
Claes rushed precipitately from the laboratory, and went downstairs to take a last breakfast with his family, at which Pierquin and Monsieur de Solis were present. Balthazar, hastening to end the agony Science had imposed upon him, bade his children farewell and got into the carriage with his uncle, all the family accompanying him to the threshold.
There, as Marguerite strained her father to her breast with a despairing pressure, he whispered in her ear, "You are a good girl; I bear you no ill-will"; then she darted through the court-yard into the parlor, and flung herself on her knees upon the spot where her mother had died, and prayed to G.o.d to give her strength to accomplish the hard task that lay before her. She was already strengthened by an inward voice, sounding in her heart the encouragement of angels and the grat.i.tude of her mother, when her sister, her brother, Emmanuel, and Pierquin came in, after watching the carriage until it disappeared.
CHAPTER XIV
"And now, mademoiselle, what do you intend to do!" said Pierquin.
"Save the family," she answered simply. "We own nearly thirteen hundred acres at Waignies. I intend to clear them, divide them into three farms, put up the necessary buildings, and then let them. I believe that in a few years, with patience and great economy, each of us," motioning to her sister and brother, "will have a farm of over four-hundred acres, which may bring in, some day, a rental of nearly fifteen thousand francs. My brother Gabriel will have this house, and all that now stands in his name on the Grand-Livre, for his portion. We shall then be able to redeem our father's property and return it to him free from all enc.u.mbrance, by devoting our incomes, each of us, to paying off his debts."
"But, my dear cousin," said the lawyer, amazed at Marguerite's understanding of business and her cool judgment, "you will need at least two hundred thousand francs to clear the land, build your houses, and purchase cattle. Where will you get such a sum?"
"That is where my difficulties begin," she said, looking alternately at Pierquin and de Solis; "I cannot ask it from my uncle, who has already spent much money for us and has given bonds as my father's security."
"You have friends!" cried Pierquin, suddenly perceiving that the demoiselles Claes were "four-hundred-thousand-franc girls," after all.